Dannsa
by drippingwithsin
Summary: Hermione needs to learn how to dance.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Back hunched and half mooned glasses perched at the end of her nose, Headmistress McGonagall sat at her paper-cluttered desk adding up last month's expenses. Her fingers darted rapidly over the abacus, sliding the multicolored beads up and down, muttering the figures aloud to herself as she wrote them down in a Hogwarts expenses journal. She pursed her lips when she saw the total balance. This year was not looking very well. The cost of the total reconstruction nearly bled Hogwarts dry. Consumed by numbers and mathematics the headmistress was startled when a voice sounded from the doorway."Headmistress?"

After surviving two wars and countless deatheater attacks, the reaction was instantaneous and purely instinctual. She snatched up her wand and pointed it directly at the source, a curse already forming on her lips only to stop just in time when she recognized the intruder right away.

"Oh my word, Ms. Granger." Minerva breathed out, clutching her rapidly beating heart as she lowered her wand. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that, especially so soon after a war."

Hermione blushed a bit in embarrassment. "Sorry, Professor but in my defense, I did knock a few times."

Brows unconsciously furrowed. "Oh it's quite alright, Ms. Granger, I was just finishing up here anyways." She glanced down at the nearly finished papers then back up to the girl. "So what can I help you with?"

Cheeks darkened to a Weasley red the young woman squeaked out. "Well, it's kind of embarrassing, Headmistress."

Taking off her glasses and placing them on the desk, Minerva leaned in closer to show the girl she had her full attention. There was a pregnant pause before Minerva decided to break the silence. "Hermione, you know very well, you can tell me anything."

The younger woman nodded and inhaled deeply. "Well, you know the Formal Fall Dance that is coming up?" She finally said then inwardly scolded herself. Of course, she knows about the fall dance you idiot she's the Headmistress after all.

Minerva nodded in confirmation. The Formal Fall dance was a celebratory ball of sorts. However, they did not mention this fact mainly due to the Wizarding World's need to move onward and how better to move onward than ignoring what had occurred in the first place. So the ball of the Rising Phoenix became the Formal Fall dance. Come one, come all, and all that.

Fidgeting with the sleeve of her robe, Hermione continued. "Well, everyone will be dancing."

"Yes, that's what people usually do at dances." Minerva replied, her normal dry wit thick.

The honey haired girl glared at her mentor's cheek before sighing and running her fingers through unruly honey curls."That's just it."

"What is?" Asked the older witch still not seeing the problem.

A little frustrated, Hermione took in a deep breath and blurted out. "I can't dance."

Minerva rose an inquisitive eyebrow. "I thought you learned in fifth year like the rest of the students."

"Oh honestly, Minerva, that was hardly dancing. More like stepping side to side while a boy leads me around in a box motion." She huffed and continued. "I don't even think we moved from the same spot he drug me to."

Minerva could not help herself, she had to laugh at this. The 'inferior dance' as her mother playfully called it was a painfully awkward slow dance done by most young people that consisted of all of which Hermione just described. "Oh well, it could have been much worse."

Hermione scrunched her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"He could have gotten handsy."

The brunette narrowed her eyes and nearly growled out. "He wouldn't have dared." Which was true, Victor Krum might have been as flexible as Frankenstein's monster but he did at least have brains. She made it perfectly clear to him then that if his hands roamed even a hair below her waist she'd hex his bits off. Needless to say, his hands stayed glued to her sides.

"Has that ever happened to you?" Hermione questioned, her chocolate eyes twinkling with curiosity and mirth.

Minerva rolled eyes heavenward. "Unfortunately." She drawled out, remembering all too well how big, rough, clumsy paws slid from her back down to her behind where they grabbed two handfuls.

The brunette chuckled. "Well, what did you do?"

Minerva pinkened a bit as hung her head and muttered something underneath her breath.

Hermione's face scrunched. "What? What was that?"

"I said I hexed his bits."

"Minerva! You did not!" She admonished then begun to giggle.

The headmistress humphed. "I most certainly did." Minerva scowled, even to this day it still irked her to no end. Bloody Cyrus and his wandering hands it's a wonder him and Druella were even able to produce children after that particular incident. Then again that could explain why Bellatrix came out a few pills short of a medicine cabinet.

Minerva hearty chuckle combined with Hermione's giggling filled the normally quiet stuffy room with merriment.

Once they calmed down, however, Minerva was the first to speak. "Well, was that all?"

The young woman's cheeks reddened and nodded.

"Oh Hermione, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. I know some who didn't learn until they were well into their twenties." Truthfully Minerva really didn't. Most witches and wizards knew how to waltz before they reached the age of ten but Hermione didn't need to know that. "No need to worry over it, dear. I shall notify Professor Flitwick to teach you how."

Hermione's face deflated. "Oh alright then." The expression, however, didn't get unnoticed by the raven-haired woman."Or perhaps you would like me to teach you?" Minerva offered, surprising not only the girl but herself as well.

Pale features lit up once more and Hermione's chocolate eyes widened in disbelief. "Really?" She'd never been to McGonagall manor before and honestly, she didn't know anybody who had.

Minerva merely nodded

Her lips broke out into a toothy grin. "I would like that very much, Headmistress."

"Very well then, come to my manor at nine tonight. The password is gu gràdh tha a 'fuireach"

To live is to love. Hermione mentally translated and smiled it was just so UnMinvera but adorable nevertheless. She nodded but before she could turn around to leave Minerva stopped her. "Oh and Hermione."

"Yes, Professor?"

"Wear a dress."

A questioning eyebrow rose halfway up Hermione's forehead.

"All women must learn how to dance in a dress." The older woman clarified yet gave no farther explanation then dismissed the younger woman.

Watching her walk out, thin pink lips quirked into a small smile. This day was going to be a long one but the wait would be worth it at the end.

* * *

The rest of the day was going by far too slowly for Hermione's liking. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts and worried predictions. What am I going to wear? What kind of dance or dances will she show me? I hope it's a slow one. The last one made her unconsciously shiver as she pictured the two of them dancing with their bodies pressed together, her head on the older woman's shoulder breathing in her unique scent. She shook her head to clear her mind. What on earth am I doing? She's the Headmistress of Hogwarts heaven's sake. Hermione spaced out for a moment. Headmistress McGonagall of Hogwarts...Headmistress.. Mistress McGonagall...Mistress. She bit her lip as her breathing sped up.

 _"Please more, Mistre-Oh for the love of-_ Oi, what's the matter with you?" Ron questioned breaking her train of thought.

"Nothing just pay attention to the lesson for once, Ronald." The young woman couldn't help but snap. Ever since they shared that disgustingly wet kiss during the war the redheaded boy had been badgering her about starting a relationship and at first, it was just mildly annoying but now it was downright aggravating. Back then as his chapped rough lips unexpectantly met hers, Hermione's longtime suspicions were finally confirmed and she shoved the offending touch away.

For Hermione Jean Granger, the lone female of the golden trio, and brightest witch of her age was without a doubt an one hundred percent, flannel wearing, skirt-chasing, breast loving; lesbian.

Needless to say after that little epiphany, the small(nonexistent) relationship between her and a one Mr. Ronald Weasley disintegrated. However, there was a teeny tiny problem with the matter.

He didn't believe her.

Even after she'd told everyone including her own parents. Ron insisted that she was merely playing hard to get or some such nonsense as that- she really didn't pay that close attention to him anymore. The fool was delusional in his pursuit. Sending her flowers, asking her out for drinks, trying to give her kisses. Ugh, and it's not like she led him on or again just the opposite in fact.

Hermione did everything in her power to let him know that she wasn't interested. From calmly explaining(for the countless time) that she preferred the fairer sex to screeching embarrassingly in front of the entire Weasley clan that if given a choice that she'd rather have his mother's hands down her trousers than have even so much as one of his meaty stubs on her person-Molly still couldn't look her in the eye without flushing and Ginny plus Fred jokingly call her Stepmum from time to time.

Even Harry bless his simple awkward heart plainly told him to 'just lay off, mate she's not into blokes'. Still, the redheaded man was ruthless in his pursuit earning him a number of hexes-both from Hermione and Ginny-and scoldings from the Weasley matriarch.

Needless to say, the level of tolerance she had for him was minimal at best.

Ron opened his mouth to no doubt push the matter farther only to close it again when he caught sight of the murderous look on her face.

Satisfied he'd keep his gob shut, Hermione turned back to Trelawney's drone out lesson about the stars and tea leaves telling your future-or some such nonsense. She narrowed her eyes in distant this time it was directed at the Professor. Bleeding Christ, how was this woman still on payroll?

* * *

Minerva's day, however, went by in a blur of grading papers and scolding pupils. But her mind was in an altogether other world. Why had the girl come to her and not simply ask Mr. Potter or youngest Weasley boy to teach her how?

However, the thought of Ronald Weasley dancing made her lips quirk in amusement. The boy could barely walk down the hall without tripping over something. Also, Mr. Potter didn't look much like a dancer. Then she recalled something that stuck out to her beforehand. When she'd mentioned dancing with Filius earlier, Hermione's face appeared as though someone had just told her the library burnt down.

Could it be she just didn't feel comfortable around the smaller professor or perhaps..Perhaps Hermione wanted to dance with her and _only_ her. That thought made her smile but just as quickly as it came it faded. No. She shook her head. "I'm just being an old fool." Minerva sighed and went back to finishing up her day's work.

* * *

 **AN** : Very old story I thought I deleted a long time ago so imagine my surprise when I found some of it on my old livejournal. Not going to lie I kind of squealed. So I decided to take it and spiff it up. The reason why it's so special to me is because it was my first 'born' so yeah. Oh yeah does any of you remember being a teenager at your first slow dance? So awkward. Anyways, tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Punctual as usual, Hermione arrived at the McGonagall manor at exactly nine o' clock on the dot only to stand there for a moment just staring blankly at nothing in particular, nervously contemplating. What if she mucked up badly? Said something beyond stupid or danced like a newborn fawn on ice. She'd just die if Minerva laughed at her or poked fun.

A heartbeat or two passed.

Oh for the love of-she was being ridiculous. Minerva would do no such thing. Leaning toward the gate she whispered the password. And as soon as the words were uttered the gates swung languidly open revealing a vast open grassland. Lush and wild it seemed to go on for miles without a tree in sight but that wasn't what caught her attention. No, it was the three story castle-like manor standing proudly in the centre. The brunette's mouth gaped open. It was something only seen in fairy tales. Huge broad walls stood strong against any and all things that might oppose them just as flat-topped towers reached towards the heavens as if seeking some sort of aid. The entire thing was built out of stone and from looking at it one could tell it was a very old. Moss, green and ever growing, covered most of the area whilst on some the stones had turned white as the weather took its due.

Still, though it was an awe expiring view and one that made even the Malfoy manor look like a London flat.

Hermione hesitantly stepped forward onto a cobblestone path that leads all the way up to it only to be stopped by a female house elf wearing a black dress and a white apron. Hermione smiled when she recognized her immediately as Minerva's own personal elf. Though the creature was free she still stuck by her Mistress like glue.

"Hello, Jasmine."

"Good evening, Ms. Granger, Mistress McGonagall has been expecting yousa." The young elf stated as she scanned over Hermione head to toe. "Ms. Granger looks awfully nice tonight."

"Thank you, Jasmine" Hermione replied with a warm smile.

"Jasmine will bring you to Mistress now." She took the young woman's hand within her own and before Hermione could comment she found herself standing in a smallish black as pitch room. "Where are we, Jasmine?"

No answer.

"Jasmine?"

She turned to see where the young elf was only to find empty space. Bloody hell, she'd been abandoned. A nervous slightly frightened feeling washed over her then left as quickly as it came when she reminded herself that this was Minerva's home.

And with that in mind, she stretched her arms out in front of her and begun groping through the darkness until finally, she came to what felt like double doors.

She pushed them open and her senses were overwhelmed with the sights and sounds of beauty of all types. The first that hit her was the gorgeous melody she recognized immediately as Lakmé's flower duet. And though the sapphic undertones of the piece weren't completely lost to her, Hermione chose not to dwell on it too much after all most people were ignorant of it. The second thing she noticed was the overall elegance of the entire area.

The room was both enormous and grand was reminiscent of the Victorian era in both design and allure. Its walls were, for the most part, a pristine eggshell white but what set it apart from the muggle norm were the paintings. Angels, detailed to a degree that would even make Michelangelo envious, glided from one wall to the next in an almost playful way. Oblivious to how their images reflected on the smoky onyx marble flooring made a sort of light show.

In the centre of the room, a white and mahogany staircase show pieced the room, waiting to make whoever glided down it appear as if they were a star.

Hermione spun slowly around thirstily drinking in her surroundings with eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Beautiful simply completely beautiful.

* * *

Getting caught up in tracking one angel in particular, Hermione failed to notice the older witch appear at the very top of the staircase.

"Ah Ms. Granger, you've made it." The sudden sound of Minerva's voice making the younger woman jump and gasp in fright.

"Now we are even." Noticing that she had frightened the girl.

Hermione didn't comment back all she could do was stand there with her mouth agape gawking at the older woman. Minerva was clad in her usual traditional green but this dress, in particular, seemed to fit her like a glove showing off all those delicious curves previously hidden by robes. Her usual bun was taken down and replaced by long flowing raven hair streaked with silver.

"You-you look beautiful." The younger woman finally stuttered out.

Minerva drank in the girl's appearance as she glided down the stairs. A sapphire cocktail dress flowed over the girl's body like a pool of water, molding around and over hips and breasts as if made for them. Minerva's mouth watered. Dear Merlin, help her. The older witch cleared her throat. "Tonight, Ms. Granger, you will learn the waltz. It is the most popular dance at balls and in my opinion the easiest in its basic form." She gave Hermione a pointed look before continuing. "It has a few different types but tonight we'll begin with the simplest; the box step."

A heartbeat.

"Any questions?"

"Can't we just skip this and have some ginger newts." Hermione gave the woman a slightly hopeful tight-lipped smile.

"Don't be ridiculous, Hermione, you asked for my help so I'm going to help you." Minerva sternly attempted to sooth the girl's frazzled nerves. "Alright now, shall we begin?"

"If we must."

Moving closer to Hermione the older witch held her right arm up. "Take my hand."

Hermione could feel butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she extended her her right arm up and took the older woman's hand in hers. The younger woman made sure that she didn't touch the older witch anywhere else. The result appeared very much like an awkward attempt at a high five.

"Come now, Ms. Granger, there is no need to feel shy." Minerva moved her left hand to the younger woman's waist just underneath her right breast, causing to brunette to jump a bit.

"Relax, dear. I'm not going to get handsy." Emerald eyes twinkled madly as the other woman's lips quirked into a smile. "After all, I wouldn't want my bits hexed off."

"Minerva!" Hermione admonished as she blushed profusely.

The older woman chuckled in amusement. "I'll try to contain myself."

Hermione hadn't the chance to comment back before she was suddenly yanked forward into the other witch's arms. "Now the box step consists of only three steps..." Minerva explained but all the young woman could think of now was how wonderful the older woman smelled. A mixture of sandalwood, parchment, and something uniquely Minerva, it was simply intoxicating.

Noticing the girl's mind was elsewhere, Minerva chastises. "Ms. Granger, do pay attention I haven't got all night."

Hermione blinked rapidly and let out a humorless laugh. "Sorry, Minerva."

The older witch merely nodded her acceptance before calling out. "Jasmine."

The elf appeared a second later with a pop.

"Yes, mistress?"

"Put on some nice dancing music."

"Yes, mistress." As soon as the elf vanished the soft keys of a piano begun to play.

"Now, let's begin. One," The older woman moved forward and Hermione not expecting it didn't move at all and forcing the two women to collide.

"Umph!" They stumbled a bit before catching their balance. Minerva pulled and stepped back. "Hermione, you're supposed to follow my lead."

Hermione blushed as she muttered a quick. "Sorry."

"Alright, once again." They tried once again only to have Minerva let out an "Ow." when her big toe was crushed. Oh, this was going to be a long night.

* * *

One hour and two badly bruised feet later.

Minerva hissed through her teeth for the hundredth time as a high-heeled clad foot smashed her toes. "Dear Merlin, you weren't joking about not being able to dance were you, dear?" She winced when her toes pulsated within her shoes.

"I'm afraid not." Hermione glanced down at the woman's feet and grimaced in sympathy.

"It's alright, dear, you will learn in time but for right now I don't think my feet can take any more abuse tonight." Minerva broke the hold she had on Hermione to rub her the throbbing appendages. "Come back here tomorrow and we'll try again."

Hermione nodded before closing her eyes to disapparate.

"Wait, dear, you can just use the floo." She opened her eyes only to see the woman staring at her. "No sense in waking up the castle."

The girl nodded and went to turn toward the fireplace but halted mid-step when she saw the sheer discomfort shinning in the other woman's eyes as she tried to rub at aching toes.

"I can help you with that." She stated, pointing to Minerva's feet.

A questioning dark brow rose halfway up Minerva's forehead.

"A foot massage. I-I used to give one to my Mum after a particularly hard day at work." She farther explained with a grin and an adorable blush heating her cheeks.

As soon as the girl requested it pure heat ran its way through Minerva's body as the mental image of those delicate hands rubbing her feet flashed through her mind. But no that was far too inappropriate as of right now. "No thank you, dear, it's nothing a pain-away potion won't cure." She attempted to take off her shoes only to stumble.

"Are you sure?" Hermione prodded as she walked over and let the older woman lean on her for support as she took her shoes off.

"Yes, I'll be fine."

Once the heels came off though chocolate eyes widened to epic proportions. "Minerva! For Merlin's sake-your feet look like a herd of centaurs stomped on them." Hermione exclaimed as she stared down at the badly busied skin.

"Don't fret, Hermione, it just appears much worse than really is."

"Are you sure? I mean we have time I can still give you that foot massage." Hermione offered once more, not even aware of how much hope she put into her voice.

"Why do you want to rub my old stinky feet?" The older woman laughed.

I would like nothing better than to touch you. Hermione wanted to shout but instead, a stuttered pathetic mumble came out. "B-Because if I don't you'll be a cripple tomorrow and I'll never learn how to dance properly." Bleeding Christ, Hermione, just shut your gob you're making a complete arse of yourself.

"Well, when you put it like that." She smiled cheekily at the girl before turning a bit serious."Oh off with you now before the Headmistress finds out you've been out this late."

Hermione rolled her eyes and grinned. "Oh my, I best be off then."

Eyelids narrowed playfully but the eyes themselves twinkled with mirth. "You better."

The brunette chuckled as she made her way over to the fireplace. Once there she glanced over her shoulder at the other woman."Goodnight, Minerva, I shall see you tomorrow and please do something about your feet."

"Yes, máthair." The Headmistress drawled out uncharacteristically petulant.

Hermione rolled her eyes once more and snorted as she tossed some powder into the fireplace. "Hogwarts" And with a blaze, she was gone leaving the smiling woman staring at the now vacant place.

 **TBC...**

* * *

 **AN:** I know short but smh better than nothing..right?


End file.
